It was a shock for Emma when the bullet cut clean through her skin. She had barely realised that the bullet had left the gun. In fact, thinking back now Emma had barely realised that the gun was there till it was much to late. How the hit-man had managed to smuggle the gun into the airport in the first place nobody knew but now everyone could see the frightened, shaking young woman lying bleeding to death on the floor.

It’s funny what passed through Emma’s mind when she was shot and the blood was running through her hands. First she thought of marshmallows... she wasn’t quite sure why. That strange image just seemed to pop into her head despite how unwanted it was in that time of crisis. Flocks of confused people came around her. A young man bent to put pressure on the wounds. Emma thought that distantly she could hear him calling for an ambulance. She stared up into his dark hazel eyes, feeling the life being sucked out of her. Emma tried to concentrate on something. The sign above her head was beginning to blur and this made her dizzy so instead she focused on the young man who was talking to her. Emma couldn’t hear what he was saying of course but seeing his mouth moved and his eyes beginning to look worried calmed Emma. He was maybe a little older than her with brown short curly hair and tanned skin. If only she knew what he was saying!

White pain seethed through her and Emma gasped as she felt the blood from her stomach, her hand went to it, touching the man’s hand that was holding the pressure still. ‘It’s ok’ his mouth seemed to form the words. Emma didn’t have enough energy to keep her eyes open anymore and they fell shut.

‘Emma Rosemary Manors.’ The policeman informed the young man who had found Emma quietly as they watched over the young woman as she slept. ‘Do you know her personally or professionally?’

The man’s dark eyes looked up into the doctor’s and he shook his head.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Did you see the man who shot her?’

The man was staring at Emma’s face and didn’t hear the question. Or if he didn’t he had chosen not to answer.

‘Mr Hisby?’

‘Call me Darien.’ Darien Hisby replied distantly but the policeman ignored him.

‘Did you see the man that shot Miss Manors?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘Nobody saw him.’

The policeman sighed, sitting beside Darien who was staring down at his hands now.

‘You do know that Miss Manors has long-term memory loss, don’t you, Mr Hisby? If we don’t know what this man... or in fact, woman looks like then Miss Manors will be no help to us. Good evening, Mr Hisby.’ Then the policeman left

‘She won’t know. She isn’t allowed to remember.’ Darien said, more to himself than anyone in particular. He glanced at Emma’s face with a sigh. Her beautiful dark hair framed her tanned face beautiful and she was breathing peacefully as though there was nothing wrong but Darien come sense her inner turmoil.